The music is vigorously played and faithfully captured, but the Mystery Lights' identity seems a little too lost in time.

A great relaxed and restrained psychedelic album.

The ways they refashioned vintage pop on Days Are Gone felt risky, but Something to Tell You offers safer, smaller pleasures.

While it isn't quite as honed as "Standing in the Way of Control," on Music for Men the Gossip sound perfectly at home in their new digs, while remaining true to their essence.

This results in an album where the melancholy is bittersweet, not all consuming, which means Thank You For Today is softly reassuring even when its intent is lightly barbed.

It's not a perfect record, but noteworthy for its musical risk-taking and assertive attitude.

While this might mean that Jaded & Faded lacks the reckless energy of its precursor, it's ultimately a more adventurous and interesting album because of it, proving that Cerebral Ballzy are more than just a group of guys with a keen interest in hardcore.

It might not quite seem like what a Fantastic sequel should be -- in fact, it seems more like a sequel to its direct predecessor, 2004's Peachtree Road -- but that's hardly a bad thing.

Maybe he's no longer breaking new ground, but his eccentricities are now an attribute, not a curse, which goes a long way in making his trademark blend of funk, pop, soul, and rock sound nearly as dazzling as it did at his popular and creative peak in the '80s.

It might be Tussle's most subdued music to date, but it works equally well as a hypnotic wash of sound and as riveting close listening, especially late at night.

This is a strong body of work from the London-based group who have taken the best of '90s guitar music and made it their own.

At 40 minutes, this is easily Q's leanest LP. It would be meaner with the removal of the inane Travis Scott collaboration "CHopstix," the uncharacteristic single.

The Strokes indulge their every whim, and the results are their weakest album yet.

This variety is what makes The King of Nothing Hill so enjoyable -- it revels in being both fun and furious.

Like the best Indigo Girls work has, All That We Let In continually dwells on the dynamic of internal, emotional tumult and outward-looking, world-wondering fervor.

In Our Gun has all the elements that made their debut so great, and then some.

The songs are sharper, the production is layered, and the performances are as compassionate as ever, resulting in their finest album since Vitalogy.

Bloodflowers boasts all of the Cure's signatures: stately tempos, languid melodies, spacious arrangements, cavernous echoes, morose lyrics, keening vocals, long running times. If you want something transcendent, you're out of luck, since the album falls short of the mark, largely because it sounds too self-conscious.

A series of hard-rockin', tight tunes...

The Charlatans are taking risks again without losing their identity.

"Anything" sounds like the Cars on an extra-snotty day, while the glistening new wave chug of "Ways to Fake It" and "One Track Mind" feels like the work of a band that influenced the Strokes instead of one of its members. Moments like these are fun for listeners who share CRX's retro fixations, but more often than not, New Skin doesn't deliver on the band's pedigree.

It's been some time since Cheap Trick have made a record that was as howling-along enjoyable as this one. If you're looking for a great hard rock album for the summer of 2017, don't look now, but Cheap Trick have delivered the fast 'n' loud blast that you need.

At times, Intimacy feels rushed and predictable, and at others, it's almost painfully ambitious.

From front to back, the quality is so balanced that there are no obvious peaks or lulls, though the tracks that incorporate harp and harpsichord stick out a little more for their uniqueness relative to standard soul-funk revivalism.

MU.ZZ.LE sounds like outtakes from the last LP--that is, short underwater dub/downtempo emotronica cast-offs--except it is darker.

Ultimately, Need Your Light is an ambitious, thrilling album, full of songs that aim to grab your heart as well as your ears.

Blending experimental excursions and more straightforward synth pop throughout, Throws isn't challenging so much as eccentric, and overcomes a thread of grayness with a spirited fancifulness.

Familiar they may be, but some credit has to go to De Backer for managing to weave these eclectic retro sounds into a cohesive affair.

As opposed to the sometimes overwhelming whimsy of Black Moth Super Rainbow, admittedly conveyed more on record than on-stage, Maniac Meat is a glowering fuzzed-up sprawl.

Stripped down, punishing, and more aloof than the two previous albums, the lack of any unifying theme makes Scurrilous a less inclusive outing, though the quintet's penchant for crafting impossibly precise breakdowns, staccato leads, and unpredictable melodies is far from diminished.

Perhaps blink could stand to sharpen their words but it's better that they concentrated on their music, creating a fairly ridiculous yet mildly compelling prog-punk spin on the suburbs here.

Much of Reservoir feels like an exercise in fussy production techniques layered over material by an artist who holds plenty of promise, but hasn't quite found her voice.

With enough highlights to form a single digestible effort, Migos could have delivered another culture-defining classic with just a little trimming. Instead, they've taken what should have been a potent, big league statement and diluted it.

Bingham has delivered a set of songs that mirrors our uncertain times in a musical language that doesn't unduly distort or romanticise them.

Degeneration Street, the group's fifth studio album, finds the band not only back at capacity, but bursting at the seams with engaging melodies, memorable choruses, and renewed apocalyptic fervor.

Memento Mori (musically, at least) owes more to the tech-heavy, similarly faith-based King's X than it does the moody atmospherics of Evanescence, but there’s enough angst and obsession here to draw fans of the latter.

Lonely Twin takes a sweetly woozy way through its length, at once enjoyable enough while still feeling like a recapitulation more than a way forward. Still, even with that caveat, it's pleasant enough listening.

At the very least, it would do Avary a world of good to have someone to urge him to ease up on the throttle of his vocals.

While all of Groban's albums are immaculately produced affairs, All That Echoes is one of his best.

With Selfhood, Sharks have come into their own as a band, one that’s grown past the simple sturm und drang of punk's three-chord limitations and emerged as something even more inspiring.

While the most aggressive electronic moments are also the weakest songs here, the merging of whispery pop and fully engaged electronic production is a huge success for a band whose output has been sleepier in the past, and points toward even more exciting developments in the future.

For the most part, Ours Is Chrome sounds like it arrived pristine via a tramp-stamped, nicotine-stained, Puget Sound time capsule.

What began with hope and reassurance ends with darkness and uncertainty. However, despite the loss of faith and the world crashing down, the band declares "here I'm alive" and the cycle begins anew.

These tracks are vibrantly cross-pollinated, touching upon lush a cappella ("The National Manthem"), R&B flamenco ("Love a Girl Right"), and buzzy, exotic club bangers ("Wasabi"). No question, Little Mix are in charge here.

The Invisible Light: Acoustic Space is not comfortable to listen to but is nonetheless compelling, and arguably necessary.

As a whole, Freedom Fables is a beautifully integrated, physical approach to song and narrative; it's a musical adventure as substantive structurally as it is enjoyable viscerally.

Buckley's arrangements of Weller's canny self-curation help give An Orchestrated Songbook a subtle but palpable emotional resonance that separates it from other orchestral pop reworkings, not to mention the heavy number of Weller live albums.

Anchored by Blake Mills' tasteful and creative production, the ten-song set feels like a small step forward for Mumford. It's both rooted in the past and primed for the future, like an exorcism gone right.

While there's more obvious contrast between Streisand's voice and the gruff Bob Dylan on the standard "The Very Thought of You," there's a warm sweetness and even a little thrill to hearing the two musical titans come together.

Overall, this is quite different (and stranger) than most Laraaji recordings, but even without his laughter or his autoharp, everything he does radiates positive energy, and this is simply another fantastic entry in his catalog.

Innings proves underground pop is still very much alive, and Nodzzz have made an album that strikes a perfect balance between simplicity and intelligently applied craft; they've made it a whole lot of fun, too.

Even if you don't delve deeply enough into these tracks to unearth all the layers of psychological discomfiture lurking beneath the softly inviting surface, there's more than enough to be gained simply by absorbing the artful unfolding of the tunes at face value.

Accept Bush as a delayed dank disco triumph, and then drop it like it's hot, one more time.

Fans of his live sets will wish this was mixed, but with a Skream mix of Major Lazer, a collaboration with Borgore, plus a freaky Lil Jon team-up you don't want to miss, the Diplo faithful should be well satisfied.

However understated the band aesthetic may seem on Sympathy, Scattered Trees nonetheless have a nice group spark on record that only benefits from Eiesland's own specific vision.

While the Intelligence may not sound quite as inspired here as they did on that album [2007's Deuteronomy], Everybody's Got It Easy But Me is still plenty of fun.

Golden Grrrls (despite actually having a bad name) made an album that embodies the best things about C-86-derived indie pop (warmth, innocence, honesty, community) and doesn't skimp on songs that make you want to get up and jump around the room with a big silly grin on your face.

Returning customers who like Tyler the ringleader, or Tyler the producer, will find this to be too much of a good thing, and can embrace the free-form Cherry Bomb as another freaky trip worth taking.

Easter Is Cancelled is a soaring and melodic evolution for The Darkness, a fresh step into maturation that retains their campy, fun-loving spirit without all the sleaze and filth.

Like the title suggests, Stars burns bright and fast.

All told, Prince Avalanche is a beautifully subtle and introspective score that highlights the strong points of its composers while serving the needs of the film it was written for.

The whole album is a barn rattler from top to bottom. Play this for anyone who thinks rock & roll is dead and gone. Heavy Trash again prove that theory dead wrong.

Like the online living some of the rappers rail against, the album can be fatiguing with extended periods of exposure, and there's an excess of information to process.

Raw Solutions is a smooth and occasionally stirring continuation that switches tacks with such frequency that pigeon-hole evasion seems like a conscious goal.

This is a confident, refined return--a necessary one in a field starving for group harmony singing. It's as solid as a reasonable longtime fan could expect.

For those who let it sink in, Infinite Arms could be a contender for the year’s best summer album, not to mention the band’s most cohesive album to date.

Brightblack Morning Light's intentions and actions are indeed admirable--they're committed advocates of much more than just drug legalization--but Motion to Rejoin struggles mightily to articulate a focus aside from tranquility.

His pleasantly cracked voice is supported by plenty of rich harmonies and the mellow organ and guitar tones give the record an inviting, organic feel.

Between this record and its predecessor, their creativity seems to have entered a fertile new phase.

The Diet isn't a quantum leap over New Misery, but it certainly represents a step forward for Cullen Omori, both as a songwriter and a performer, and as long as his love life remains problematic, he should have a great future ahead of him.

Even the lesser songs have enough catchy moments to rank Mouseman Cloud up there with any of Pollard's unending solo material from the decade preceding it, but the strongest songs leave one wondering what kind of masterpieces he could construct if he'd just limit himself to one record a year.

This debut only strengthens Lissie's potential to become one of folk music's newest sirens.

California X have a way to go as songwriters, but Nights in the Dark shows they're maturing into a top-flight heavy indie band, and if you want to hear a group that know how to make their guitars signify, this may be just what you've been looking for.

Eventually, people will get tired of the same old song if it's sung too often. On Views, Drake is starting to sound a little weary of it himself.

Grand Mal isn't going for anything bombastic with Bad Timing, but it's a good dose, a healthy spoonful of new millennium indie rock.

Despite another notable drop in songwriting from its predecessor, Sing When You're Winning ultimately succeeds, and most of the credit must go to Robbie Williams himself. Amidst a raft of overly familiar arrangements and lyrical themes, Williams proves the consummate entertainer by delivering powerful, engaging vocals...

Just below the surface, all the quintessential Get up Kids qualities are there: melody, intelligence, and lyrical sincerity.

The most alluring aspect of The Platform is the array of finely-crafted beats-

After a few listens Walking With the Beggar Boys reveals itself as a near perfect little pop record.

Wiretap Scars illustrates Sparta's ambition to move beyond At the Drive-In, but also the bandmembers' attempt to steer clear of mainstream emocore.

Nothing much changed over their time off, and the guitar-driven material on Safeways Here We Come is the same fervent but melodic pop-punky stuff that Chixdiggit! fans have come to expect.

Viva Voce's 2011 release The Future Will Destroy You is an expansive and somewhat slow-burning mix of the indie rock, psych rock, and pop sounds they've delved into over the years.

Like some of his peers, Woolhouse can be a little too subtle for his own good, but on Life After Defo, he's crafted a promising debut with a distinctively cozy take on life's bittersweet moments.

With her eighth proper solo album as Noveller, Lipstate continues to push her otherworldly sound in fascinating new directions.

The House reinforces Porches' standing as a distinctive voice in a crowded field of wistful D.I.Y. indie electronica.

There’s some of that familiar production magic [of Max Martin and Shellback] in the instantaneous disco-pop hooks of “Wood” or the classic Swiftie melodic sensibilities and sonic detailing of “Opalite,” but nothing comes close to the poreless candyshell immediacy of “Bad Blood” or the undeniable catchiness of “We Are Never Getting Back Together.” Instead, these songs choose a more refined approach that’s slower to take hold but makes an impact nonetheless.

Well-chosen guests like Fatman Scoop and Pharoahe Monch increase the thug appeal while earthshaking productions from the Alchemist, DJ Khalil, and Mr. Porter seal the deal.

Songs like the dreamily punchy pop of "A Walk" and "Different Heart" and the cascading, descending swirl and sonic moan of "Keep Still" don't reinvent wheels but do serve as good general exercises in the field, lovely, tender, and loud.

Overall, Clay Class gives the feeling of bridges being built and dots being connected.

It's ultimately a fitting platform for his brokenhearted reflections.

The artistic playground of modern-day Berlin seems to have had its influence on the gentlemen of Breton as they turn in an extremely creative, yet accessible sophomore effort.

Scars is a worthwhile throwback to the freak attitude that kicked off their career over a decade earlier.

With Ghost Games, Apes have expanded their sound and pushed their brand of experimental art pop even further than before, making this one of their most exciting and enjoyable works to date.

Stein and Brock still seem to be working out their garage and pop influences in their guitar work; they don't deliver a fully satisfying fusion of their influences, but instead split the difference between jangle and crunch, watering it all down in the process.

Ultimately, if Hands was Little Boots' booty-shaking call to the dancefloor, then Nocturnes is the afterglow, post-party soundtrack for the ride home.

Strapped isn't a bad album so much as a strangely scattered one, revealing the Soft Pack caught between delivering what they're known for and what they might like to become.

Even without 'Neon Jesus'--the single that garnered Crocodiles quite a bit of web attention just before this release--Summer of Hate stands strong as a tremendous debut: one that pays heavy tribute to its influences while never seeming overly derivative.

Underwood is taking risks for the first time. Nearly all of them pay off. ... The result is an album as satisfying as it is surprising.